


Looking Back

by oofins_Mcgoofins



Series: Looking Back [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Emma sees Looker as her dad, Gen, I tried a few vignetes, It might have worked, Looker feels bad, Looker is underated, and overlooked, teaser for series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26303950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oofins_Mcgoofins/pseuds/oofins_Mcgoofins
Summary: Emma gets curious over Looker's old, framed photograph.(cross posted on Fanfiction.net)
Relationships: Handsome | Looker & Matière | Emma
Series: Looking Back [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911190
Kudos: 7





	Looking Back

Looking Back

It was the evening. The clouds were painted a beautiful collage of oranges and reds from the light of dusk, but the work of art mother nature provided could hardly be seen behind the buildings that reached so high in the sky. Windows that lined the upper levels of the urban canopy gleamed, the reflection of the hidden sight hardly holding a candle to the complete picture of the dusk sky. If anyone on the streets below cared to look up at the picture of man-made objects clashing with the beauty of nature, maybe they too could have realized the truth of their own idealism paralleled in even the simplest of things such as a city skyline.

It was evening and Lumiose City was bustling. Cars still lined the streets, traffic just beginning to reach the end of the dreaded rush hour. A few stray streetlamps had already begun flickering on making the main roads brighter, but they too paled in comparison to the scant golden rays that marked the topmost floors of the skyscrapers. The trees that were in the middle of the road usually stood out against the colorless gray that was the norm in a city, but the season was Winter, and they were barren of any leaves.

But a wonderful thing about trees was that Spring comes and the tree returns to its once beautiful state. 

At night, shadow rules the land, stretched across everything it can find. When dawn comes, it retreats into any nook or cranny it can find to escape. The twisting alleyways of Lumiose often are perfect for shadows, a high contrast to the cheery plazas that connect them. When dusk comes the dark becomes darker and where the light once was becomes dreary.

Criminals must have found something appealing about a shadow covered alleyway for them to get such a bad reputation. Maybe it was the tall buildings that protected them from justice, much like how they protected shadows from the light. Perhaps the close up space allowed for misdeeds to be hid easily. Or the nigh unpredictability they wind to create an urban maze grant clean getaways for one who knows them intimately.

Any of the reasons criminals flock to the narrow alleys are plausible, and most of them are true, but the reasons aren't needed for one to find irony in the fact there is a light of justice that had made its own home between the shadows of criminals.

The Looker Bureau. It was nestled on the edge of a narrow street, narrow enough to be considered an alleyway and where shady deals happen, at least before the criminals found out that a detective was moving in. The placement of the detective's Bureau only increases in irony when a person finds out it is located by Rogue Plaza and Sushi High Roller. Sounds oftly fishy.

. . .

Looker stared at the book of notes before him. The list was tauntingly short and the theories were all useless. None of the dots seemed to connect, and there were hardly any dots to connect in the first place. This wasn't like some amateur Pokemon smuggling he had dealt with in the Galar region, Looker was definitely dealing with professionals.

But that wasn't something he didn't already know. The fact that an International Police officer like himself got called on a case like this, not to mention undercover, showed that he was dealing with professionals. The lack of hints just proved that fact. Then again IP officers weren't just called in to deal with criminals who outsmart the average police, they usually are given cases with high potential for disaster.

Looker sighed, leaning back in his chair. The blinds behind him were down, hardly letting in a trace of natural light in from the outside. Emma should be back soon, the 'detective' idly thought. Mimi mewled, staring unblinking at . . . Something. Looker is still surprised that the esper doesn't follow Emma to work in the morning, but she does teleport out to some unknown location, so maybe she occasionally visits her during the day. 

Suddenly, the lock on the door clicked, the handle turned, and the door creaked open. Emma appeared on the other side, much to Mimi's joy. The small, slate gray espurr waddled on her tiny legs, quickly covering the distance between herself and her best friend. The girl's hands were behind her back and there was the slight crinkling of paper that gave away what she was attempting to hid.

Then again, her bringing back food from the cafe was becoming routine. She got it all on a major discount, since she worked there, but she wasn't fooling anyone. Looker knew exactly why Emma was doing it: she felt she needed to repay him for him taking her in. Looker understood the sentiment (he had felt the same way when faced with a debt that seemed impossible to fulfill), but the main problem was she wouldn't accept it, often doing chores as though she had to earn her keep. She didn't need to 'earn her keep,' Looker was incredibly fond of the child.

(Looker knew he was getting too attached, and that was something very dangerous on an undercover mission. Not to mention after the mission was over, he knew he would most likely never see her again.)

(He knew he was too attached because that very thought made his heart give a painful twinge.)

Looker smiled tiredly as Emma thrust the two brown paper bags out in front of her. Standing up, he moved over to the small dinner table, but it was so small he would hardly even consider it a dinner table. It was more like a tall coffee table, but it served its purposes.

Taking her own seat, Emma reached into her bag and pulled out two crisply wrapped baguettes, most likely stuffed with an assortment of lettuce, cheese, and some type of meat (Looker personally preferred thinly sliced ham, but he wasn't certain what Emma liked, she always seemed to go for the cheaper option for herself). Then she pulled out a small package of macarons, most likely providing for Mimi's sweet tooth.

That was something interesting about the little, psychic cat, she was always craving something sweet, often appearing back in the Looker Bureau with a lollipop or some sort of candy. Looker didn't really understand where she got them, but all he could hope for is that she didn't steal them from some child and got them from a legal source.

Mimi mewled at the sight of treats, and Emma smiled, her own form of the tired smile that Looker had trademarked. It certainly made her eye bags stand out, much to the undercover officer's concern.

Which he didn't hesitate to express. "Emma."

She didn't exactly freeze, but she certainly did still her movements, knowing she had been caught in her shallow act of attempting to hide her fatigue. She knew exactly what he was going to say; it had been a topic many times in the past.

"I know you feel as though you need to repay me, you have expressed that to me many times before. But you know when you overwork yourself at your job, all it does is worry me."

Looker paused briefly, trying to find the right words to let his message sink in. Emma was staring at the ground, unable to meet her temporary guardian's eyes, most likely from guilt.

"I need you to know you don't need to repay me, you don't need to exhaust yourself. I don't need you to do any of those things."

"I know, it's just-" Emma protested.

"No excuses. You'll only end up hurting yourself." Looker had a soft look on his face, something that was alien on his usually strict and harsh facial features. "Okay?"

Emma's response was mumbled, but enough for Looker. ". . . okay."

They ate quietly, savoring the food instead of making small talk. The sandwich had soft bread, but the outside was firm enough for the sandwich to not just fall apart in his hands. The lettuce was crunchy and fresh, and the tomato's sweetness contrasted with the ham's saltiness, giving him a nice balance of flavors. 

Looker swallowed, before trying to break the quietness. "So, how was your day today?"

Emma smiled, accepting the awkward attempt at conversation. "It was good today. There weren't too many rude customers and it wasn't too busy either. I think the manager likes me because I got a raise."

Looker's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "That's great."

"How was your day?"

"I didn't get any cases, so it wasn't very stressful. But I also didn't get any closer to finding out how the crime ties together around here. . ." The lie came smoothly, it was based around a truth, after all.

Emma hummed in contemplation. "What if you go to them, instead of waiting for them to come to you?"

Looker shook his head. "I'm afraid that isn't in the job description of a detective. I don't think I'd be prepared to go undercover."

(What a lie)

Emma nodded, turning to throw away the paper wrappings of the sandwiches. Mimi had already gorged herself on the macrons, but there was just enough left for Looker and Emma. Brushing to crumbs off her hands, she snatched one of the small cookies.

Looker stood, moving over to his small kitchen to make some coffee. Emma followed him, putting the macrons on the counter. She stared at the various trinkets around the room during the minutes spent in silence. 

It is said you can tell a lot about the character of a person just by how they decorate their room. Emma never really had the opportunity to test that theory as she's never really been in many homes in her short lifetime, but Looker didn't seem to put much personality into his home decoration. His desk was a dark oak and any papers besides a tidy notebook were tucked away into the drawers.

Really the only thing that showed any of his personal connection with this place was a framed photograph. It showed Looker staring at the camera with a small smile, a small bluish purple pokemon standing besides him. Curiosity sparked through Emma at the sight of the unknown pokemon.

She found herself asking despite the unspoken rule of hers not to ask about other people's past.

"Looker," Emma began, getting his attention, "I was wondering. . ."

"Yes?"

"Who is that pokemon in your picture?" 

Looker seemed to freeze. His muscles tense and his eyes have a faraway look in them, almost as though he was gazing at another time entirely, an internal war waging. It only lasts a moment, as though he had expected this question.

Emma saw the reaction, knew she had crossed the boundary, and began stumbling over her apology, "You don't have to answer that, it was kinda insensitive of me- sorry-"

Looker waved her off. "No, no. It's fine, you would have asked about it eventually. That pokemon is croagunk, one of my old partners."

Emma nodded, but decided to continue the conversation. "What do you mean, 'one of your old partners'?"

"I had three partners, the other two had left me before that picture was taken."

"Why would they leave you?"

"I," he swallowed, "don't know why they left me-" 

(liar) 

"-or where they went. All I know is that they'll never come back."

Emma frowned, staring at Mimi. Mimi was her friend, her partner. It was awful that all of his partners left him, for no reason. It would be horrible if the psychic cat left her. Actually, Emma thought, I doubt Mimi would ever leave me like that. 

"I hope Mimi never leaves me." The espurr mewled in agreement and Looker had a somber look on his features.

"I hope so too."

(It wasn't until much later that the full meaning of Looker's words sunk in. At first she had hated him for having a conversation like that with her, then leave her just like his pokemon left him. How could he do the same terrible thing to her, even if he knew how terrible it felt? How could he hate her that much?

Then she found herself spilling salty tears when she realized what left really meant.)

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I love Looker.


End file.
